


somewhere only we know

by wanderwithme (wanderlustt)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustt/pseuds/wanderwithme
Summary: Four times Kuroo proposes to you—and the last time he does.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 46
Kudos: 327





	somewhere only we know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pikaniuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikaniuu/gifts).



> happy birthday to my love ania, I love you so much and I hope you know that!!

_**1**_.

The first time he proposes is on a swing set.

Both of you are six. Both of you are too young to understand the gravity of what it means to be married--to commit yourself to another human being for better or for worse. Forevermore. But it doesn't matter because when you're six, you have nothing holding you back. No responsibilities, no obligations, no meaningful ties to anyone else that isn't family. Both of you are happy, fickle-minded without consequence, content to be none-the-wiser.

He makes your ring out of grass, braiding together each strand until it resembles something of a circle. He puts it in an empty matchbox, something he's managed to fish out from the depths of his grandpa's closet, and keeps it tucked away in his pocket until recess.

The both of you are laughing--having the times of your lives as you push each other as high you can. Because when you're six, you have nothing to worry about except being nonsensical, carefree, and having fun. It isn't until you're staring up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by to a still, that he gets down on one knee to pop the question.

"I, Kuroo Tetsurou, demand your hand in marriage!"

You come to a full stop, the soles of your sneakers screeching against rubber as you hop off the swing seat and tackle him to the ground with an _oof_. "You're supposed to ask me first dummy," you snap, rolling on your side to face him--him and the ring.

"So can I take that as a yes?"

"Mmhmm."

He's already reaching for your grubby little hands, slipping the grass ring onto your ring finger until it comes to a stop at the base. "Hey, look--it fits perfectly," he says, beaming.

You beam too.

Kenma, meanwhile, looks very much unimpressed as he passes by, playing some rhythm game on his phone, "Can we get lunch now?"

"Yeah, but--I want Kuroo to ask me first."

"Fine." He pushes himself up from the ground, offering you a hand--a hand that you take. "Will you marry me?"

"OK--how much money do you have in your wallet right now?"

He thinks about it, "Enough to buy you lunch?"

 _ **2**_.

The second time is in middle school.

Middle school--a time of change and a time of reckoning. You grow a little taller, a little wiser, and a little more self-aware. You start making _girl_ friends, which means you spend a little less time with Kuroo and Kenma, but it comes with the caveat of learning other things: how to put on makeup, how to dress cute on a budget allowance, and how to fake-cry out of trouble with your parents (effectiveness remains to be seen).

Speaking of parents--mom and dad start asking you to take more shifts at the family shop, which keeps you busy. You see a little less of Kenma--and you see a little less of Kuroo too, but you try and squeeze in their volleyball games whenever you get the chance. You're trying your best, but you fall asleep most days on the train ride home, which means Kuroo is usually the one escorting you to your apartment to make sure you don't sleep your way back into the city.

"She's been really busy lately," says Kenma one day during practice--his not so subtle way of expressing his concern.

"Yeah, her dad is sick so she's been picking up extra shifts at the shop," is Kuroo's response, as he hits the ball in the air with absolute ease. "I'm gonna visit him with her next Friday after school."

"Next Friday?" Kenma wrinkles his brows, thinking. "Isn't that her birthday?"

"Yeah. And I have something planned," says Kuroo with two thumbs up.

"And what would that be?"

"It'll be fun. You'll see."

Kenma pauses, tucking a ball underneath his armpit, "What does that mean?"

But Kuroo just whistles a cheerful tune, grabbing another ball from the cart before lining up at the service line.

"Kuroo, _what does that mean_."

He grins, "It means you'll see."

*

After a late shift at the shop the night before, you fall asleep in class. You're snoozing away, not quite dreaming, but letting the exhaustion overwhelm you anyway.

Until you hear your name on the loudspeaker.

A voice that's frankly unlike the voice that should be on the loudspeaker.

A voice that can only belong to one person.

"Kuroo?" You mumble, rubbing away the sleepiness from your eyes as you squint up at the loudspeaker. You yawn again, but you hear your name--and it isn't until one of your girl friends nudges you in the ribs that you realize you're not imagining it. This is real. This is happening.

_**"Hey, is this thing on?"** _

It's Kuroo--there's no doubt about it.

He clears his throat, static filling speakers like sand. "HEY! Happy birthday!" He sings, and you can practically hear him smile on the other end. "Just wanted to chime and say I'm going to marry--"

There's shuffling on the other side--more voices you don't recognize.

_**"HEY! I didn't do anything wron--"** _

Your entire class snickers in unison as you bury your face into your arms, a curl of a smile forming on your face as you blush.

_**"HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE MARRY M--"** _

It promptly cuts off.

(Kuroo gets suspended for a week after the incident, but that's OK. He doesn't mind. Just tells you happy birthday again and says he'll be waiting for an answer from you when you get the chance.)

 _ **3**_.

You start your first year of high school taller than Kuroo--but by the time senior year rolls around, he's already a head taller than you. For the most part, nothing changes. You go to school, you attend history club after school, you play video games with Kenma, and you attend Kuroo's matches.

Other girls start noticing Kuroo in senior year, but he doesn't notice them noticing him, which is frankly kind of amazing since they have a whole Kuroo Tetsurou club that attends every single one of his matches. Even when he's not playing, even when he's taking a break on the bench, they're screaming his name. Kenma calls them the parrot club of Nekoma High, and it couldn't be more true.

For the record, you can see what they see in him--but you get a little defensive about it. You knew him since elementary school; you knew him since he was skin and bones; you knew him before he became the _hot thing_.

While the other girls are fawning over him, you start having some of your firsts in high school. First date--with the very pimply boy on the baseball team. First party--you, some of your girl friends, and the boys soccer team.

First death--dad.

You start growing up faster than you want to. You quit history club, you start helping mom out with the shop, you learn how to bookkeep, you start paying bills. And you don't complain about any of it. You start seeing more boys on dates--with zero expectation of a relationship on the horizon--because it's a good distraction, albeit one that ends with you feeling relatively empty when you get home.

You're waiting for something better--that's what you tell yourself.

You're waiting until you find the one.

(But you decide that even if you don't, you'll find the next best thing.)

When dad dies, you start putting things into perspective. You start considering--it doesn't always have to be perfect. It just has to work. It just has to make sense in the context of what your life will look like.

"I just hope he's rich," you say, swaying on the swing halfheartedly as you look up to see the sky kissed pink.

Kuroo snorts, wriggling into the empty seat next to you, "It's not always about money, y'know."

"That's what people who don't have money problems say," you tell him, and it makes his lips curl into a half-smile. "Anyway, dating is just practice, right? I wanna get good at it--at least until the next oil prince shows up at my doorstep so I can trick him into marrying me."

"Or you could just marry me," he replies.

Therein comes the pause, as you study him from your perch. Kuroo is handsome in a not-so-obvious way. He gets better looking the more you look at him, like a Monet. He's grown a lot since elementary school too: lean, tall, broad shoulders. You wonder what it'd be like to be held in those arms, but you look away before you can think too much.

"I really envy the girl who gets to date you."

Again, that smile on his face is half-amused, half-genuine, "It could be you--for all you know."

"True."

The timing's just never worked out. Either you were dating someone--or in the process of dating someone--or working at the shop with mom. Or he was busy with volleyball, college prep classes, and doing all those captain-ly duties. Now senior year is coming to an end--and neither of you have acknowledged the elephant in the room.

"Guess it wouldn't make a lot of sense to ask you out now, huh," he says. "Since we're going our separate ways--different colleges in different cities."

You close your eyes, feeling the hot summer breeze sift through your hair, "Yeah."

"So how 'bout we circle back to this in 10 years?"

The smile on your face is wry, "Sure, if you even remember who I am by then."

"You think so little of me--I remember every face I ever see."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," you giggle, swaying gently as you watch the sun dip below the horizon of cityscape in the distance. "Who knows, I might be with someone else by then." And then you look at him and that vague smile on his face. "You too."

"Eh--doesn't matter either way."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He grabs the chain links of your swing, pulling you a little closer, "'Cause I'm gonna marry you."

Had it been a year or two ago, you probably would've blushed. But you know Kuroo. And you know who he is and what he's capable of. No doubt he'll settle down with some random pretty girl, probably the daughter of some wealthy telecom CEO, before living out the rest of his life in a penthouse apartment complex filled with kids and laughter.

"Kuroo."

"Mm?"

"Kiss me to promise?" You say, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. Shockingly, your first kiss has remained relatively sacred--untouched by any of the boys in high school.

He pauses, hand still wrapped around the chain link of your swing seat, "Sure."

Your face flushes red almost instantaneously as he leans in--only to peck your lips gently before letting go of your swing seat.

The momentum has you swaying back just a little as you look his way, only to see him looking back at you with all the adoration and love in the world. "I promise," he says. "So you have to keep your end of the bargain too."

Instinctively, you reach to touch your lower lip--where your mouths met for only a second. It'd been so fast that it takes you more time to digest it actually happened. Your face is glowing and you feel uncomfortably warm as you continue swaying alongside him, watching the sun come to a complete set with the last light in the day.

"Promise," you tell him.

He smiles--genuinely--grabbing the chain link of your swing again, catching your hand too as he starts swinging at your pace. "Y'know--I'll always be here for you," he says. "We're, like, bonded now. 'Cause you stole my first kiss."

"You stole mine too."

He looks surprised, if anything, a little shy about it. He looks the other way, trying to hide the very apparent blush that's forming on his face.

 _ **4**_.

You start seeing other people in college.

And for the most part, you keep the promise you make to Kuroo at the back of your mind. But you also keep the promise you make to yourself. You weren't kidding when you said you wanted to get better at dating. (And that's generally all they amount to too. Dates. Nothing more, nothing less. Dinner and a movie. Dinner and drinks. Dinner and coffee. The whole shebang.) And that's what you tell yourself as you go on date after date, each one more unceremonious than the next.

There are few second dates--even fewer third dates.

But you have one lasting relationship with some guy named Takashi from your history class. He makes you laugh, he offers to pay for your meals, and he comes off as a generally sensible guy, if anything a bit average. But for a while, that's enough to sustain your relationship.

He also tells you the next girl he dates is going to be the girl he marries. That girl isn't you.

So you break up with him and you mope about it for a while to your friends who offer you vague and unhelpful advice like _you can do better--he wasn't that great anyway--just another way to cull the list of opportunities out there_. Eventually, they get sick of your whining and you start browsing your phone until you land on one name that you know won't get sick of your shit.

"Dude was a dick, what else is there to say," Kuroo states, absolutely beleaguering the point after his third beer of the night. Shockingly enough, you're the one who's getting tired of talking about your ex. "You dodged a bullet, right? Let's cheers to that."

You do, clinking your glass with his, "Anyway, what about you? Any luck?"

"Nah." He looks pretty amused at the sound of it, leaning against one clenched fist to study your face from the corner of his eyes. "Been busy with classes--plus my internship."

"OK, business major." You laugh, taking a sip of your beer before setting the glass down and taking a breath. "You know you don't have to compartmentalize everything, right? You can just--date and have some fun with it?"

"I know, I know." He looks away, a glint in his eye like he knows something about you that you've yet to discover. "Just want to make some plans in the future that I can't if I'm dating other people."

"Right. The future." It's a frightening prospect, one you haven't given much thought to as you filter through your classes every day. "What kind of future plans are we talking though?"

He grins, "When I marry you."

"Nice one, smooth guy."

"I'm serious." Miraculously, he doesn't look so smug about it. He looks like...he actually means it. "I"m gonna make sure I'm debt free--y'know--so you don't have to inherit any of that crap if I die in a tragic accident. Oh, and I'm gonna make sure I'm a homeowner too. 'Cause I don't want you to be homeless either."

"Wow, you would do that for me?" You roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile too. It's just so easy to forget about your burdens when you're with him. _Just so easy to lose yourself in the ease of existing with him around_. "How are you so sure I'm not gonna take everything you have in the divorce?"

He snorts, "That's assuming I'm not gonna take everything from you first."

"Yeah? And what's that going to be? My two Gilgamesh figurines?"

"Yup. And your gaming rig. And your PC too. Should I go on?"

"Sure. Just remind me to erase my search history before you take it."

A woman in a drunken stupor makes her way across the room towards the bathroom, which happens to be right next to your table. She comes stumbling, tripping over her own heels, and comes to a full stop when she looks at you. She's beaming.

"You two are gonna make some really cute babies," she says, voice a complete and utter drawl.

You blink, "Oh, we're not--"

"Yep. You're damn right." Kuroo takes your hands, linking his fingers with yours before putting on the most insincere smile you've ever seen. "Hope they inherit my nose--and her eyes."

He doesn't let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

*

You're wasted.

But it's nice to pretend, you think, as you stumble back to Kuroo's apartment. A cozy one-bedroom downtown overlooking the shopping district. He's a pretty neat guy--the most he has out of place is a sweatshirt lying on his kitchen table. But otherwise he lives like he has his life together (which he probably does): a kitchenette in one corner, collect with an actual set of knives (he cooks!), a dining table and two chairs, a bedroom--

A bedroom with a bed, a writing desk, and a floor lamp. There are photographs sitting on the windowsill. One of him and his parents, one of him and Kenma, and one of you and him. You must be in middle school in this photo, and judging by your school uniforms, you would be right.

You take a seat on the edge of his bed, collapsing before you can fully digest what's going on. Everything is spinning--and everything is coming too easily as you look up and see him smiling back down at you.

"You're a mess," he says, drawing the blankets over your shoulders.

It's the benefit of being best friends. You can feel totally at ease--you can skip all the pleasantries and all the insincere comments about how nice his apartment looks. You don't have to make up anything on the fly to impress him. There are no pretenses. You can be totally, unapologetically yourself.

"Just in case you don't know where you are or who I am--don't worry," he says, heading towards the door. "I'm not gonna try anything."

"Oh."

You wish he would've.

(But you're grateful he doesn't.)

 _**5** _ _._

Life comes at you fast.

You graduate, you start working--one full-time job in an office and one part-time waitressing job. You also help mom with the shop on weekends, which means you barely have time to see your friends. You barely have time for yourself. But you're young, you're strong, and you tell yourself you can take care of it. You don't complain much, but you also don't have much energy to complain either.

"Jeez--it's impossible to see you these days. Do I have to call your secretary or something?" says Kuroo over the phone one day.

"Says the guy with an actual secretary," you say into the receiver, rolling your eyes. "Anyway, I'll meet you tonight, alright?"

"Don't be late."

"I won't."

*

You're late.

"I'm so sorry, my boss kept me," you tell him, meeting him at the entrance of the train station.

He's wearing his suit half-tucked. His tie's already loosened, slung over his shoulder like a worthless sack of potatoes. And the first button of his shirt is loosened too, but he looks pretty damn good under the streetlights of Tokyo. He looks like he didn't even try, which is how you prefer--

"All good," he smiles at you. "I mean, we missed our dinner reservations--"

Your eyes widen, "--shit, did we really? I'm so sorr--"

"Whoa, relax." He puts his hands on your shoulders. "It's fine. They're just dinner reservations."

"Yeah, but--"

"Besides, I have a better idea."

You blink, as he offers you a hand--a hand that you take as he leads you somewhere you don't know. You can only assume it's somewhere around the corner as you follow his steps, feeling weirdly warm about the whole thing.

You start recognizing the streets as you continue along together in silence. You recognize that old worn out mural on the wall--you recognize the bakery at the street's end that smells like sweet cream pastries at all times of the day.

It's the park.

You glance at the fence, already chained shut, "Aw man. It's closed."

He lets go of your hand, sneering, "What? Scared?"

You snort, "You wish."

You take the lead, climbing up the side as you secure your foot in each diamond as you make your way up, only to look down and see Kuroo waiting below. "What--are _**you**_ scared?"

He doesn't meet your gaze, arms crossed over his chest like he's playing bodyguard, "I'm on the lookout to make sure no one looks up your skirt."

"Oh, I'm sure the hundreds of people in this street are dying to look up my skirt right now," you laugh, looking down at the very, _very_ empty street underneath you. It isn't until you flip over to the other side that you clear your throat. "OK, you can come up now. I'll race you down."

Kuroo immediately springs into action when he hears the word _race_.

You're climbing down while he's climbing up so it's only natural you two meet halfway, fingers brushing against each other as you look up to meet his gaze. "Funny running into you here," he says, pausing to grin at you while his fingertips brush against your ring finger.

"I was going to say the same thing," you reply, sighing as you jump down whatever little distance is left. "Guess that means I win."

You wait for him to come down the rest of the distance--tapping your feet in mock impatience as he hops down next to you.

"Oi, I was going easy on you," he says. "Gave you a head start and everything."

"True. Still won, though."

"You always do."

Oh, he's never conceded so easily. You try not to overthink it as you follow him towards the swing set, where he waits for you to resume your seat first before taking the empty seat next to you.

You're not sure when these seats got so small. You're not so sure when they started squeezing so hard against your hips, but you suppose it's been years since you've been able to sit comfortably on one. Apparently Kuroo is thinking the same exact thing. "Swear these things were bigger," he says, and it makes you chuckle.

Everything in this park has been renovated. The jungle gym, the floor mats, the merry-go-round. Everything except the swing set, which sits untouched--chain links all rusted from the wears of time.

Even you--you and Kuroo have grown up in ways you never thought you would. Both of you are bigger. Wiser. You wonder what it'd be like to meet your younger self in this park--if she'd believe you are who you are today.

"Can't believe we've known each other for, like..."

"Ever," he finishes for you.

Kuroo's grown up so much. His shoulders are a bit broader, his hair's slicked back, and the suit he wears now is tailored and freshly pressed. The swings are squeaking as the both of you continue swaying this way and that with absolutely no resolve at all.

Until he comes to a stop, foot pressed against the mat.

"Oi, so I was thinking."

You arch a brow, "That's a first."

A curl of a smile forms on his face as he wrinkles his nose at you, "Will you just let me have this? _Anyway_ \--I was thinking. You'd be a sucker if you didn't go out with me," he says. "We're both single, we're both young, and we're both really, really good-looking. Especially me."

You whistle, "Wow. You're right. I am a sucker."

"Yup. But let me finish, alright? 'Cause this is taking a lot more courage than I thought it would," he goes on, clearing his throat, grabbing the chain link of your swing seat. Only then do you notice his hand is shaking. "I'm saying you'd be a sucker not to date me--and I think you'd live the rest of your life calling yourself a sucker too."

"OK..." You nod, trying to follow. "Where is this going?"

He grins that slack-jawed grin, "Right. Uh. So. Where was I? You're a sucker--"

"--I hate you so much right now," you say, finding it hard not to smile. "At this rate, I'm seriously not going to date you at all."

"OK, so marry me instead."

You blink.

The faintest blush starts creeping on his face. It's so uncharacteristic you nearly mistake him for someone else. But there he is, flesh and bone, sitting on that swing set next to you.

"I would take care of you really well," he says. "I'd make you really happy too."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Holy shit.

He's proposing to you.

Seriously this time.

When that realization dawns, your eyes start filling with tears. Hot, _hot_ tears. You're left with some ache in your chest that feels like you're going to be torn apart in minutes to come.

You meet his gaze with a smile.

"I'd marry you because I love you. Idiot."

And then comes the silence as he wrangles free from holding onto your swing seat.

"You love me?" He says.

"Yeah," you start swinging--back and forth you go, side to side, until he catches you by the chain link again, holding you to a stop.

From his chest pocket, he pulls out a matchbox--sliding it open to reveal one grass ring, yellow and shriveled up, a ring nonetheless.

"Didn't want to get you a real one until we sized it," he says, pausing. "This is just a placeholder--y'know. Decided to keep it in case I needed it some day."

You blink--and suddenly the tears are rushing down your cheeks in fat globs as you hold out your hand for him. He slides it on, clutching your fingers to his chest. You're so small in contrast--so delicate and uncalloused. "Well look at that," he says, softly. "Still fits like a charm."

You smile, "Let's just make this my engagement ring. Screw the diamonds."

"Nah, I wanna spoil you," he says, linking fingers with yours. "Diamonds, rubies, sapphires--whatever you want."

"I want this," you tell him, looking down at the grass ring. "And I just want to be with you." A pause. "That's all that matters to me."

He smiles, pulling you closer by the chains--and then he plants the sweetest little kiss on your lips before letting you go. "Funny--I was going to say the same thing," he says. "Guess we actually kept our promise, huh."

You grab his chain, stopping him from swaying, "I wanna hear you say it though."

He pretends not to hear, "Hm? Say what?"

"Say you love me too."

"Oh, I dunno about that. Think I'm gonna have to take my time with that. We just got engaged, right? No rushing."

"Ugh, you suck!"

You push him away, but the momentum has you swinging back towards each other, and he grabs your seat, pressing another kiss to your lips--until it devolves into a dozen kisses on your face. He's slobbering over you like a wet dog, making you shriek with laughter.

"I love you," he whispers quietly. "Always have."

You beam, "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wanderlu5tt)…so we can cry over the end of haikyuu


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